


One in the same

by Nagiru



Category: Shin Megami Tensei: Devil Survivor 2
Genre: (the story itself may come later), (this was my first try at a NaNoWriMo), A chapter for character, Alternate Universe - Daemons, Character studies, Daemons (His Dark Materials), Gen, I changed the story a little (lot), Introducing the Universe, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, mentions of bullying, mentions of child abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-12 17:02:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 11,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10495536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nagiru/pseuds/Nagiru
Summary: Daemons settled as the best representation of their human's soul. Sometimes, that is simple. Others, the reason might come from somewhere deep down that no one can really understand. Humans simply have learned to live with whatever they might be dealt, in the end.(or: a character study of the characters from Devil Survivor 2 and what would their daemons be, were daemons a real thing on their universe.)





	1. Kuze Hibiki - Byakko

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: Devil Survivor 2 and the characters do not belong to me, but to Atlus. The concept of Daemons (and Dust, if it ever comes to exist in this story) belong to Philip Pullman. The story itself was written by me.
> 
> This story was my first try at the NaNoWriMo Challenge. Or, rather, this was the first step of my take on the challenge. This was the introduction, that rounded 10k words, and I wrote parts of the story itself, as well, reaching 30k words, but I never finished the story. I was thinking of rewriting the story, changing the form of it, and decided that I liked the Introduction as it was. So, if I ever finish the story, this will be an introduction to the main part, but as it is, it's just a snippet of the changes I made into the plot itself and a lot of (as mentioned twice already) character study.
> 
> This part is complete and has 14 chapters. I may or may not write a 15th chapter for Polaris, giving an even bigger introduction to the plot, but that is yet to be seen.  
> Hope you like it!
> 
>  
> 
> If you do not know what "daemons" are, a summary of it would be: a person has two parts of a soul; the human one and the part that takes an animal form. This animal form of the soul is called a "daemon". When the human is young, daemons can change their form to whichever they prefer, but as they grow old (normally after puberty), and they "discover themselves", the daemon will settle as a single animal form, and will never be able to change again. Daemons can speak and touch each other, but it is considered taboo to touch another person's daemon, and it is rare that a daemon will talk to another human that is not their own soul (but it's not really a taboo. Simply... strange). If a human dies, their daemon dies as well; the other way around is also true. Any deep harm will be inflicted on both of them.

**Kuze Hibiki — Byakko**

Hibiki wasn’t sure where the daemon’s names came from. Years ago, from one of his first memories, he could remember a little kitty licking its lips and muttering, “Byakko” when asked its name. At that time, Hibiki (who was nearing three years, he supposed) wasn’t sure if “Byakko” was male or female, but he knew he liked the kitty. It was small, fluffy and warm, and it kept him comfortable when his mother had to go to work.

Years later, Hibiki still didn’t know where Byakko got its name from, but he _did_ know Byakko was a male. And it had grown — changed from kitty into all kinds of birds, dogs and wolves, even a dolphin once, before he finally, finally found his form at thirteen as a great white tiger, roaring away Hibiki’s threats.

Hibiki learned not to care about Byakko’s name somewhere along the way; it was funny enough when he realized his luck that “Byakko” became a white tiger, but he smiled, shrugged and went with it. That wasn’t the only thing he got used to or the only thing he learned to ignore since getting Byakko. When people looked at him scared because of his daemon, big and threatening, he just smiled and treaded his fingers in white fur and went on, because there was nothing he could do. Byakko was him — and if Byakko was big and scary, maybe that meant somewhere inside, _Hibiki_ was big and scary.

Or maybe, it was simply the part of him that roared against bullies. The part of him that remembered how it was to be a small kid shivering behind a bear, hiding with a mouse in his pockets, warming himself to the fur of a wolf. The part that remembered how his mother would stare him down, make displeased noises whenever his grades were not up to her liking, and leave him alone the rest of the time, ignoring him even when he was sick. The part of him that had cried silently inside a bathroom’s stall, a crow keeping watch over the door while he tried to wipe away the tears of harsh words and mean kids, kids who had loving parents, kids who did not had great grades, kids who wanted to belong and ignored the fact he, himself, did not belong.

Or maybe, the part of him that had felt lonely for so long, whispering his thoughts to a loyal dog, to a silent panther, was the part of him that had raised up high, reminding him _you’re not alone anymore_. There was a small kid by his side, all grins and bad puns, who was loyal, fierce and protective even while shaking with fear. A kid who raised his voice against the worst of his bullies, who had been punched in his defense and had yet smiled as if nothing had happened at all. A kid who had a monkey by his shoulder, a kid who clapped his back and sat by his side, and helped him with chores and asked help with homework. A kid who was shy from time to time, whenever it came to girls, but who was as loud as a parrot most of the times, loud and talkative, filling the empty space of his silences.

Hibiki had been a small, frightened, quiet kid. A child who knew no love from his family, a child who had no friends, a child who was disliked by his peers because of his brains. A child who hid alone until there was no other choice but go home to an empty, silent, cold house. A child, who had once cried in the park, tired of mean children, tired of hiding behind a daemon who fancied itself as something big and protective, and had received his first friendly hand. He had been a small child that no one would look twice at, but he grew into a confident teenager, a loyal friend, a self-assured person. Yes, his house was mostly empty still, but from time to time, a friend would come to stay the night, and they could make as much noise as they wanted to fill the emptiness. Yes, his mother was almost always absent, but he had someone who was always by his side, someone who cared about him and not only his grades, someone who would praise even his most unlikely accomplishments. And maybe he still hid from time to time, hid behind a mask of happiness and “everything’s fine”, a huge smile at his face — but sometimes, as well, it was less of a mask and more of a reality.

Kuze Hibiki as the child he once had been — he would probably have _never_ had a tiger as his daemon. It was most likely that his daemon would be a rabbit or even a small cat, as it so liked to assume when they were the only ones in the room; the small cat that would stare up at him, independent and solitary, the cat that fancied himself of needing no one. Kuze Hibiki as the teenager he grew up to be, the young man he would become — that, however, was someone deserving of a fierce, protective, independent tiger.

So, he did not care for wrong looks thrown at his direction. Did not care for the whispers that went behind his back, the fearful feeling that would raise in the air when he walked into a small shop or a classroom… because, all the while, Hibiki would remind himself _this is something to be proud of, something you made yourself with the help of a **friend**_. And knowing this, knowing what he had been and what he was… well, how could he feel anything but proud of himself?


	2. Shijima Daichi - Hanuman

**Shijima Daichi — Hanuman**

Some people called Daichi a coward. They were _mostly_ right — only because while “coward” could be applied in this case, the most correct term would be “knows when to stand up and when to run away, but only ever stands up for a friend”.

That being said, Daichi probably knew that four kids ready to punch him? Yeah, a good time to run away as quickly as possible.

Even so, he didn’t.

He didn’t, because right there in the middle of the big kids who all had scary daemons trying to scare him away, was a little kid who must have been his age, curled around a barking dog and trying to smother down his sobs.

Daichi received a punch in the face, was called every kind of name, the children laughed at him… But he stood strong, despite his own fear, and glared them down. And by his side, Hanuman never wavered, not even for a moment, snarling and growling as the biggest wolf he could turn into.

Afterwards, when they were both sat on the swings — Hanuman a dove overhead, and the boy’s daemon a little mouse in his pocket —, Daichi turned around, smiled even with a bruise forming on his cheek that hurt as _hell_ , and asked for his name.

“Hibiki,” the boy had whispered, looking at him scared. Daichi decided, right then, that that punch he received was nothing he regretted, because this kid needed his help, and even if his senses screamed at him to _run away_ , he was really glad he had stood up. So he grinned, hid his pain, and said back, “Daichi, and this is Hanuman, but you can call him Han.”

Daichi took a very short while to realize that Hibiki was quiet, and that Byakko, Hibiki’s daemon, was even quieter. He, of course, made up for that, and Han used to talk so much that it was weird, because everyone always expected the daemons to stay quiet when there were strangers around. Well, Daichi had a good sense of when to run or when to stand up, but he had never had a good sense of when to shut his mouth.

Han was quick to befriend Byakko. Han was actually _quicker_ to befriend Byakko than Daichi was to befriend Hibiki. Daichi needed weeks of hard work, lots of chasing the other boy around, and another punch before Hibiki finally stopped running whenever he felt he had company, but Byakko quickly opened up to Han, always changing into whatever animal Han had taken to testing at the time. There would be two crows flying as high as they could bear, two dogs chasing each other playfully, two cats lazing by the sun, two monkeys climbing the stairs of the playground. Daichi would look at them, gaze at Hibiki, and smile; because Hibiki was serene, peaceful, and Daichi had _finally_ worn him down enough to be able to sit by his side and just enjoy the feeling of having their daemons playing together.

Soon into their friendship, Daichi noticed that Hibiki was almost always touching Byakko. A hand in a fur, a bird resting on a shoulder, a small animal inside a pocket. They were always in contact, always seeking reassurance there was someone else beside them, someone else they could turn to. Daichi almost never heard any of their voices — Hibiki would just murmur answers whenever necessary, staring at him like a wary cat most of time, and Byakko would stay by his side as a guardian whenever he wasn’t playing with Han. More so, Daichi noticed how Hibiki would just _seek_ Byakko whenever it was time for them to go home, whenever the word “family” was mentioned, or whenever he saw a scary, older boy.

Daichi wasn’t, by any means, a genius like Hibiki. But even Daichi could make a quick work of logic, and realizing that Hibiki was scared wasn’t all that hard. Realizing Hibiki was scared of going home was strange, an oddity, but not _hard_. For that reason, it wasn’t hard to invite him over, to lean over, smile and ask, “Will you come with me to my house, help me with homework?”

The answering wide eyes, small blush and murmured “yes” were quite a gift to a small seven years old Daichi, who had never been brave enough to defend anyone before that and had had no one to invite to meet his home before. Daichi had grinned so hard right then, and Hanuman had done backflips as a small gibbon and that was something hard to notice, the way how Han, who had become Hanuman at that moment because it felt more right, had never changed from a monkey after that, even while morphing between different species of monkeys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I decided to post chapter twice a week: Friday and Tuesday.  
> I also noticed, sometime yesterday, that I completely ignored Joe. As in, there is not even a mention of him anywhere, which is pretty stupid, now that I think about it. How I forgot about him, I have no idea. But, I also noticed I don't know which daemon would suit him, so... if anyone had an idea... (I was thinking lizard. Both Orcus and Kama'pua, demons related to him on the game/anime, have a somewhat pig-y appearance, but I don't think it suits him all that well? Even if I am thinking of naming it Kama.)
> 
> Anyway, next one is Yamato's, and has a little bit of the main plot on it. Or, like, at least a hint of the plot, really.


	3. Hotsuin Yamato - Cerberus

**Hotsuin Yamato — Cerberus**

Yamato wasn’t strange to threats. Since he was a child, he had been raised as a leader, as a warrior. He knew his way inside a court, in front of politicians, and in middle of a battle just as efficiently. And when he had the choice, Cerberus would always change to adapt better to the situation; a hawk when he needed sight, a lion when everyone around him was feeling high and mighty, a wolf when he was in danger. The only things Cerberus never turned into were the cute, small, docile animals every child around him seemed to prefer.

Because that was the thing — while Yamato could cut down a politician from another country with nothing more than words, he had never been good at smiling and making friends. He could fight his way out of a fire, but he could not mingle in a playground. He could stare, watch, and observe… but he could never understand. Because other kids were raised to be children, to have friends, go to school, play games… but he, he had been raised as an adult since a tender age. He and Miyako had received the best education coming from the best scientist of every field, they had been introduced to the society (the one that _mattered_ , on his family’s words) when they were five, they had gone to foreign countries and learned foreign languages, all while attending meetings and prosecutions. They had no reason to be children; they only needed to know how to defend — themselves, their family, their country.

The thing Yamato never understood, however, was that it wasn’t a fact of _needing_ to know, but of _being normal_. What he knew, what went on with his family… that simply wasn’t done. In his family, neither Yamato nor Miyako had ever had a chance to be kids, never had had a chance to have _fun_. They learned, trained and grew up, but they never smiled or had friends. They had followers, subjects. They had an organization written to their names: the leader and emergency leader of JPs. The future of Japan laid before them, and not even a blink of surprise.

Yamato was, by many, called a “prodigy”. He and Miyako were twins. Both born on the very same day, both showing a great deal of potential… Both worthy of the “throne” of Leader. But Miyako was a little bit slower, a little more centered to _socialization_. Neither of them had friends or fun, but Miyako knew her way even on the simplest of contexts, even when there was no gun pointed at her head or a big figure threatening her. She wasn’t a blade searching for blood — she was a person, and she had smiles and charm. Miyako had a face no one ever refused. So, Yamato, with his prodigious mind, who learned things in a matter of moments, who could strip down _anyone_ , who made _everyone_ feel threatened… Yamato, whose daemon settled at _eleven_ … Well, Yamato became the Leader, Cerberus the Wolf by his side, and Miyako, with her beautiful, golden vixen (who would only receive a settled form when she was _twelve and a half_ ), smiled her way into the face that everyone would know.

Because of that, while Miyako dealt with the populace, while she smiled, waved, and made huge speeches, Yamato sat inside his office and snarled down at the threats of Japan. He sat there, heard his _subjects_ (because that’s what they were; those people who promised a child, in whispered, overwhelmed voices, _“I’m yours to command, Master Yamato”_. They weren’t coworkers. They weren’t subordinates. They weren’t even _independent_ anymore, were they? No, they were simply subjects of an appointed king) talk about people who had no daemons. People who were _not_ , in fact, cut from their daemons, only _born without them_. People who, most likely — his scientists would speculate — came from other universes. “Demons”, “angels”, “witches”. Many kinds of names would be used, he knew. Some of them might even be accurate, to an extent. But he minded nothing of that, nothing of the _nomenclature_ , he only heard, nodded, and barked orders, because in his mind, things were years ahead. While these people worried about “demons” who were trying to cut our daemons from us, Yamato thought about how they got here, about how they could bring an _army_ , about how they could bring _a world_.

So, while Miyako convinced people to come to their cause with a winning smile, a warm mask, and beautiful face, Yamato prepared a war.


	4. Hotsuin Miyako - Kohryu

**Hotsuin Miyako — Kohryu**

Some people expected Miyako to be jealous of her brother. Some people expected Miyako to prostrate at his feet, kiss the hem of his coat, and beg him for a shred of his attention. No one really knew that Miyako, the smallest twin, the _girl_ , the _pretty face_ , was actually quite a force to be recognized. Quite a force of _nature_.

That was the beauty of her daemon, her soul. Kohryu, who followed her since birth, who stood proud and beautiful and never _too_ threatening, unlike her brother’s Cerberus, shone through perfectly as a vixen. Foxes were known to be sly, manipulative, charming… And everyone forgot that, behind their shining fur, there were sharp teeth and the accuracy of a dangerous hunter. Miyako was just like that; while everyone feared Yamato, with his wolf, few would remember that the fox was just as likely to kill its prey, and all on its own.

Yamato was, truly, the leader of JPs, and he wore that title as if it was a crown. Miyako knew that, were _she_ the leader, she would as well. What really mattered, however, was the thing that no one thought about — she, the one they all overlooked, had had the very same education as Yamato. The same training. The same deadliness. She could be more “docile” (as in, she could take longer to kill the threat), but she was just as dangerous. And when they insulted her, when they stood as a threat to her family… well, she brought her whip with her everywhere since it was so easy to hide, and she had no qualms about showing them just how good she was with it on her hands.

So, while everyone feared Yamato, everyone expected the _boy’s_ sentence of death, Miyako laughed quietly with Kohryu. She would sit by their deathbed and whisper things no one could live to tell a soul. She would whisper about her admiration of her brother, about her _love_ for her brother, about the fear she felt that someone would one day _threaten_ her brother. She was no war expert; she could strategize, but she did not command armies to the battlefront. She preferred to kill alone, on her own — and, when Yamato started planning his war, she stood up and killed his first threats. She whipped away the “demons” or “angels”, or whatever they were called, while Kohryu bit and cut them with her claws. She took a sword, cut their heads off, and brought them to be studied, because she was no expert in science, but she knew what had to be done. She stood and made herself a target, because she also understood of sacrifices, and knew that, between her and her brother, the least damage would be caused by _her_ demise.

Even so, she never planned on dying.

And, even more… She never, even while being talked of as if being

a child, a burden, she never said anything. Because, really, what did it matter? She knew what was true and what wasn’t, and she knew that a vixen was not something to ignore.

And when her brother called her “vixen” and she answered with “dog”… well. Neither of them were wrong.


	5. Sako Makoto - Pallas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, if I didn't say this on the "summary of what you need to know about daemons": human and daemon can't stay too far away from each other. If they try to pull away, there will be pain and tension, and they will need to get back into contact soon.  
> Witches, however, were said to be able to send their daemons away to the other side of the world, and spend long periods of time like that.
> 
> By the way, I am making a guess when I said that if a daemon settled as some kind of aquatic animal, the human would need to stay close to a water body. I mean, aquatic, water... yeah. But, I don't know if daemons are actually bound to those rules? I think they are (in this modified universe, they are), but, I don't remember if Pullman ever stated in agreement or disagreement of this. So, it might have been something I made up, sorry.

**Sako Makoto — Pallas**

Since she was a little girl, Makoto had wished her daemon would set into something beautiful. Something others would like, something that wasn’t _scary_. She would stare at Pallas, sit by her side, and whisper just for her to hear — _“Please, I want to be a swimmer. Can you turn into something that knows how to swim?”_

Pallas was actually a pretty loyal daemon. For years, longer than most of her peers, Pallas never got a set form. She would stare defiantly at the animals around her and would stick by Makoto’s side. She would be a bird on her shoulder or flying above her — a falcon keeping Makoto in her safe zone —, a dog trotting by her side, a cat curled on her lap, and a dolphin swimming with her. They were so _beautiful_ together. They could swim and be beautiful _forever_.

Except that, no, not really. Because Pallas was _too_ loyal. She was too loyal, too fierce, too protective. She was too good for Makoto. She knew what Makoto wanted, because it was what _she_ wanted, and knew to search for freedom. But freedom was something only children had, something that everyone grew up from.

And Pallas was never meant to be a dolphin. Never meant to lock Makoto by the water, living in a cabin by the river. If Pallas had settled as a dolphin, they could have never moved around. They would have to stick to water, and when Makoto was too old to be a swimmer — well, they would be just so _unhappy_. So, Pallas did what she did best. She was good for Makoto.

She turned into a dog. A beautiful, loyal, fierce, protective Akita.

Pallas put it off as long as they could. She was defiant by nature. Makoto always smiled and hid and blushed, and Makoto seemed so _fragile_ , but Pallas did not. Pallas would actually raise her head, growl louder and bark at anyone who made Makoto uncomfortable. They were not totally the same; not all souls were. But they were two parts of the same person. And Makoto, with her shyness, fear, and uncertainty, needed a protector more than she needed an anchor. So, when the time came, Pallas got up, changed into an Akita, and sat on Makoto’s lap — and they both knew what it meant.

Makoto still tried to be a swimmer for a while longer. Tried to dive while Pallas swam around. The strain was strong, the pull seemed like it was going to break, but they kept trying, because they _liked it_. Because Makoto never felt as alive as when she was underwater, dancing together with her friends.

—That was a mistake.

Because of the strain, because of their insistence, Makoto felt gradually more tired. As if there were a pull all the time, keeping her at the edge of consciousness. She could never feel good, because she was always _trying_ , again and again, and she just _couldn’t_.

Couldn’t pay attention. Couldn’t evade quickly enough. Couldn’t stop it.

The car came out of nowhere — she could _swear_ she was by the sidewalk, in the middle of the people, but then, she hadn’t been feeling too _awake_. The car hit her with too much strength. She didn’t die, of course. Pallas had barked, howled, and bitten her. Pallas had dragged her away before it was too much, ever the protective girl, even when bleeding herself.

The accident did not kill them — but it ended their dream of swimming. Makoto had a big scar that could never be hidden. It marred her skin in a way no one wanted to see. She had no future on her dream anymore.

She felt so _empty_. So dull.

But Pallas, ever so good, laid on her lap, swung her tail, and murmured to her that there were _other things out there._ “We can find something else, Mako,” Pallas whispered, licking her hand, “And we’ll make it our new dream. You’ll see.”

They did. They found twins of white hair, twins of fearful smiles and threatening presence. They found Yamato and they found Miyako, and they found a _home_.

And Makoto had knelt down, alone once again, and whispered, “Thank you”. Again. And again.

And Pallas had rumbled comfortably, nudged to be petted, and laughed back, “I said so.”


	6. Wakui Keita - Berserker

**Wakui Keita — Berserker**

“Berserker” seemed to be the best name to Keita. Not the best name to his daemon, but the best name for _Keita_. Keita, who burned with anger and energy, who punched and kicked, who ran and made no friends. Keita, who was always in a state of berserk. Berserker, on the other hand, was so quiet, so calm, so _collected_. He served as Keita’s brain, as Keita’s morals, as Keita’s conscience since he was a child.

Case in point, Berserker had been the one who, when they were children in an orphanage, told him to _keep it down_ , because he knew Keita hated all of the kids and workers of the orphanage, but getting into trouble would only kick them out into _another_ orphanage. Berserker had been the one who had changed into a snake, wrapped itself around Keita’s wrists, and stopped him when he was ready to lose it. Berserker had been the one sleeping on his lap as a dog during classes, making it a very hard thing to get up and leave. Berserker had been the one to turn into the most _annoying_ crow and remind him that _he needed food_ , like, _right now_ , so would you please get moving?

Berserker had been the one who had turned into a leopard, turned around, and forced him out of the fights, because being a delinquent wasn’t the way to go.

Keita had been an angry child, hateful about the parents that ran away and abandoned him. He had known nothing more than his anger, than being an orphan. He knew only how to be hurtful and angry with the others around him — be it the children whom he had to room with, the children who made such _happy noises_ , or the adults who “cared” for him. He had been angry, loud, rash. He had bitten out words, Berserker changing into the scariest and biting animals there were to scare people away. He had punched, because that was what he learned soon in his life, and Berserker had left cuts and bit marks behind on his opponents’ daemons. He had snarled, because he knew not how to smile, and Berserker had growled and hissed, because words were rare and reserved only for him.

As a teenager, he was no better. Keita as a grownup had managed to be actually _worse_ than Keita as a child. Knowing nothing beyond his pain and anger, Keita punched and kicked his way into life, because why should he _not_ fight? He was harsh and rude, and made enemies right and wrong. He wasn’t a person who _studied_ ; instead, he was a person who made wrong choices. He rose up in the streets, spending as much time away from the orphanage as possible, and won the name of “Raging Wolf of Minami” (and Berserker made sure he never changed from a wolf as they fought. There was no reason to give away their young age right then). They made a name for themselves, as the most scary duo out there…

And then gave up.

Because there was simply no challenge. No one was strong enough. No one was even a hitch in his way. Keita was angry, was bored, was prideful. He could crush every single person in these streets, and no one posed a challenge to him. So he turned to Berserker, who was always his best partner, and asked what to do, and received a lot of fangs in a facsimile of a smirk, and a simple, “Then find someone stronger.”

He gave up street brawling, he studied a bit harder, he stopped getting into fights with the other children of the orphanage. He adopted healthy habits, started eating well, sleeping early and running in the morning, and he took a hobby. If he wanted to find strong opponents, if he wanted a fight, then he needed a _way_ of fight. He did not like swords, he did not like bows, but he loved punching things out, so he chose boxing. He chose boxing and dedicated himself to it, filling with pride at his own power.

And by his side, Berserker, his calmer side, grew proud of his soul and smirked silently. And sometime while they trained, he finally took a form. From then on, when Keita left in the morning to run, there was one single type of animal running by his side. When he was training with a punching bag or jumping a rope, there was a large cat laid down by his side, lazy and asleep but always wary. When he laid to asleep every night, his hands searched the dark fur of the familiar dark leopard who kept watch.

And like this, Keita and Berserker gave up their lives of Raging Wolves and became the stronger duo in the boxing society — and the fateful search for a strong opponent.


	7. Al Saiduq - Alcor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a chapter with... many necessary notes. So. In this chapter, a lot of the story is revealed, actually, with the main focus of the original plot laying here. But, that is not the note-worthy part; that part belongs to Polaris, daemons and "being cut".  
> For those who do not know His Dark Materials, it is important for you to know that Pullman states that there are actually many universes laying side by side. In fact, he even goes beyond and state that some of those universes have daemons in different forms from the one where Lyra comes from; some of those universes, in fact, might have people with no apparent daemon. Normal humans, just like in our universe. He says they actually exist, inside, but I also took that to mean that, maybe, in some universe that might signify that human and daemon are not related; they just have to find something _like_ a daemon, somewhere along the way. Polaris, my Polaris from this story, is from an universe like that, where there are no visible daemons, and where there might even be some emptiness inside.  
>  Something else is "the cut". In Lyra's world (the world where The Golden Compass begins), there is something of a... guillotine that manages to cut apart human and daemon. It is a process suposed to be extremely painful and beyond cruel, but humans appear to survive it, mostly; they become somewhat of a husk of their original ways, empty and lacking, and always longing for their daemons, which they stop sensing, and it might even become "unnatural" for them to even touch _their own_ daemon, as they can't sense it as their own anymore. As said, it is something beyond cruel that everyone seems to see as unforgivable, and the humans, despite _surviving_ lack a lot of what made them, them. Daemons - I guess the cut daemons survive, as well, but they become more wild, more like animals. In a world where daemons never settle down, I suppose that could mean that the daemons, wild, would try to change forever, except that, becoming more and more animal, they would lose that ability, somewhere along the way, becoming cornered, scared animals, mid-way into a change.  
>  I guess that's all, now? Anything else you don't understand, you know, question me about.
> 
>  
> 
> So: yeah, I'm here just about a day after the last chapter. This was prompted by my very good mood, as I don't have any classes this Monday. I should post another tomorrow as well, just because.

**Al Saiduq — Alcor**

Alcor existed against the laws of Saiduq’s queen. Or, better said, Alcor was still _Saiduq’s_ against those laws. Alcor was supposed to exist, just like every other being in Alcor’s world was _supposed_ to have a daemon… Every other being except for Polaris.

Polaris, the tyrant queen. Saiduq had been loyal, once in a lifetime. He had stood by her side, smiled at her, served as her sword. He had been a good dog, answering to every single call, and had been ready to kill for his queen. What he had _not_ been ready for, was to sacrifice himself.

Maybe, if Polaris’ orders were to commit suicide, Saiduq would have had no problem, but they weren’t. Her orders were for everyone to cut away _their daemons_. And if there was one thing Saiduq loved more than he loved his queen, it was Alcor.

While all around him, all his friends went through the process (“it’s safe. A hundred percent functionality even after the cut.”), Saiduq had turned to Alcor and begged. As his queen’s sword, he was one of the freest person in their world. He would not be followed, not be reported. No doctor would say he hadn’t been present for the cutting, because they would simply think he had presented himself to another, and no one would think to check amongst themselves. No puppet would follow him, watch him 24/7, and order him to go to the doctors; they would simply think he would go as soon as he could. No one would think twice about it. So Saiduq turned to Alcor and begged off, because he knew that Alcor understood.

That day, Alcor was not cut away, but he gave up his best ability. He gave up on changing as he wanted and took the form of a tiny, impossible to detect, wasp. A fairyfly, Alcor whispered to him; a traitor, a murderer, who put its eggs inside the eggs of other insects and killed their larvae before they were even born. Fitting.

From that day on, Saiduq was forced to keep quiet, to lower his head, and follow every issued order. For his queen was absolute and perfect, and now everyone was just like her, and weren’t they all much happier like this?

Saiduq never told a soul about Alcor, who lived in his hair. He never told a soul about the whispers they would trade when they were alone in their house, locked by his bed, the cold emptiness of the room suffocating him. Not even when they were alone was Alcor allowed to change into something else, for fear of being seen, but when they were alone like that, Saiduq could hear his whispers by his ear and pretend everything was okay.

Their lifestyle wasn’t happy or nice, and Saiduq was always glad to be away from Polaris, but they managed it. Their borrowed time was treasured, and Saiduq learned to love his Alcor as none of his peers ever loved their daemons. While everyone else continued with half a soul, their special daemons cut into the wildness, forgotten forever, Saiduq would have Alcor by his side all the time, even when they could not admit to that. While cut-daemons out there changed and changed and lost themselves into their own madness, Alcor locked himself away into the form of an insect and kept his soul’s sanity, because that was his purpose as a daemon.

And when the door was opened, and Polaris ordered an invasion to _learn about their future world_ , Saiduq offered himself as the “loyal sword” he was, an emptiness in his eyes and a silence in his throat — but inside, both Saiduq and Alcor screamed at the opportunity. A fairyfly; a traitor, a murderer. One day, their time would come.

In this new world, where everyone had their daemons by their side, Saiduq was not forced to hide Alcor away as a fairyfly, but even so, the meaning remained in their blood. In this new world, Alcor could be a bird and take to the skies, could be a snake basking in his warmth, could be a kitten learning about life. In this world, they were finally _free_ …

And if push came to shove, when the time came, they would be a fairyfly once again, one last time. They would change right in front of Polaris, and there would be no more hiding. A traitor, a murderer. The first half was done. The second half of their purpose would come to an end when the tyrant queen’s blood fell on their hands.


	8. Kujo Hinako - Perii

**Kujo Hinako — Perii**

Hinako was born and raised for dance, and that was the best way to put it. As the heiress of the Kujo clan, she was expected to follow their steps as a traditional dancer; as one more dancer in a line of millions of dancers. And honestly, she did not care; she _liked_ dancing… She liked to move, to follow a music, to present for others.

What she did _not_ like were the laws of the clan. She did not like the fact she had _restrictions_ on her dancing, or that she was supposed to, one day, be a wife. She did not like to be a maiden, to be an _heiress_. She wanted to be _Hinako_ , not “the Kujo kid”.

Because of it, when she had the choice, Perii, by her side, was loud, obnoxious, and _clumsy_. She was a snake, a bear, a dog. She was every kind of animal that was simply not that pretty, not that beautifully made for dancing. Hinako had Perii turn into the ugliest insect, into the scariest dog, into the biggest feline she could think of. She only never tried any birds; all her family had a bird as their daemons, and she just did not want to tempt fate. Except for that, Perii had been _everything_ , and she was quite proud of it.

While Hinako danced, as beautifully as her mother expected of her, Perii barked and ran around, whining about how _boring_ the practice was (it was a lie). While Hinako learned a little bit of every kind of music, Perii slithered over her body, hissing louder than any song. While Hinako learned how to host an event, how to serve a dinner, Perii crashed into things as a bear, huffing over how _small_ the inside of this house was.

While Hinako danced, alone and forgotten, trying what _she_ wanted, Perii became a butterfly, enjoying her freedom. As butterfly, Perii was amazing; she was so graceful, so beautiful, so _tempting_. Hinako wanted to ask her, _“Please, become a bird”_ — she did not, as she knew that, as soon as Perii became a bird, they would never want anything else. It sang in their blood, yelled in their mind. They knew it as easily as they breathed; they were birds, they were meant to fly high and shine their feathers around.

And Hinako wanted that so _badly_.

For sixteen years, the longer anyone on her family took, Perii never settled. Hinako would raise her chin, cross her arms and (stubbornly) say, “We just haven’t found what we like yet.” No one argued. They all whispered behind their backs.

For sixteen years, Perii avoided feathers, wings, the sky. For sixteen years, the closer Perii ever got to happiness was being a butterfly, when she knew what she was from the very start. For sixteen years, Hinako rebelled against her family for the principle of it, for the pride she had in herself.

For sixteen years, Hinako was nothing of herself.

Close to her seventeenth birthday, Hinako finally gave in.

She was presenting; the dance was beautiful, even if too much _traditional_ for her tastes. The song had been thrumming inside her, an echo of things she never had had, and, in the middle of a twirl, with a smile blossoming on her face, Perii just… Changed. From a blubbering dog to a tall, lean flamingo, and that was it. Her feathers matched perfectly Hinako’s fan, and she had a laugh about it later, when the dance was over.

At eighteen, Perii perched by Hinako’s side, and decided it was enough.

“If you won’t give up,” she had said. “You should at least get _out_. Go study what you really want. Become a dancer on your own. You learned the Kujo style of traditional dancing —there’s so much more to learn out there still. Why not try?”

Hinako had never thought about it so objectively. So _rebelling_. Yes, she wanted to be known as _herself_ , but she had never considered giving up on her clan. But now that it was on the table, the thought just wouldn’t get out of her mind.

As tentatively as she could, as cautiously as was needed, Hinako looked down at Perii — and nodded.

They left at sunrise, pink feathers and red hair shining under the golden light.


	9. Ban Airi - Lorelei

**Ban Airi — Lorelei**

When she was a child, there had been no doubt in Airi’s mind; the thing she had with Lorelei, with her Lei, was something that she wouldn’t trade for the world. She loved how the song reached out, piano and trills mixing together and echoing, again and again. It was something beautiful, something _unique_. Something that was _theirs_.

Whenever Airi had a piano class, Lei always changed into a songbird. Lei would perch on her shoulder, and she would be _awesome_ at following a song. She would read the score with Airi, and even their teacher would have that proud smile on his face. Airi was so happy at that time; so happy to have a partner.

She never expected her dreams to tear at the seams.

It was all going so well — she was happy with Lei, singing and playing, and _composing_ , and then they had the concert. The scariest concert of her life. Lei was almost never an animal that wasn’t a songbird by that time, from how focused she felt. When she woke up, Lei was singing to her, and when she went to sleep, Lei would rehearse one of their songs. It was something comfortable, something relaxing. It was the _only_ thing that kept her going when the concert came around, otherwise she would be so scared, so anxious, she did not know how she would fare.

This way, she knew — she _won_. Sitting in front of the piano, playing her favorite song while Lei accompanied as a nightingale — that had been the best rush she had ever felt, and it appeared on her music. Everyone liked it. Her mother cried, her father grinned so hard it looked like his face was going to split, her teacher congratulated her, and she _won_. One of the youngest to win a music award at Osiris 41, and she was so _happy_ about it!

And then — life got in the way.

Her father got sucked into a case, and her mother became wearier. When she said she wanted to be a professional pianist — well. For a long while, Lorelei was not even “Lei” anymore. Handful of sheets were shredded and tossed into a bin, her voice screamed hoarse, and Lorelei wasn’t allowed to become a songbird anymore.

One single award on her shelf and a broken dream inside her heart.

She blamed her father, who was so occupied with his job but couldn’t make enough money to afford to pay their bills and her classes — ignoring the fact his shepherd could barely walk straight from exhaustion and that her father was barely home anymore. She blamed her mother, who never rose up for herself, whose rabbit trembled by her side and kept silent. She blamed Lorelei, who was now more often than not a cat, following her around sullenly — Lorelei, who had raised her hopes.

She blamed herself, who had _dared_ to have a dream.

When her father finally went missing — she cried, harder than in a very long time, and huddled close to Lei, arms wrapped around the thick fur of a German Shepherd. A broken, mute tune sounded in her ears. By her side, Lei growled softly, accompanying the sound of the silence.


	10. Torii Jungo - Cookie

**Torii Jungo — Cookie**

Jungo was often called slow. Slow, quiet, dumb. It wasn’t necessarily true. Nor was it completely wrong. He was slower than most people — slower, more relaxed, moving in his own pace. Jungo hated rushing, hated overthinking. He was a man of _now_ and felt happy with simple pleasantries. He loved food, and he loved company.

Jungo was raised in an orphanage, and as such, had so few things to call _his_. He had a bed that had been offered him, a share of food that was almost tasteless; roommates who had their own friends, and he had _Cookie_. Cookie, who was most often than not, lazing around as a cat, sleeping on his lap or simply laying by his side. Cookie, who would sometimes get up wanting to walk, and guide Jungo around the city.

Cookie, who saved him when he guided Jungo directly to a restaurant. He saved Jungo not because they were hungry, but because that, right then, was their light.

Inside that small, cozy restaurant, Jungo found a new life. The Chef of the restaurant had been so warm, so kind, so nice he only needed a glance to decide that Jungo would be his apprentice, and Jungo swore right then never to disappoint him. As an orphan, Jungo had few things that were _his_ ; right then, his list had been growing.

Cookie did not change from the small cat he preferred; he simply laid by the counter and flicked his tail around while Jungo watched attentively everything the Chef did. Words among them were few, only the necessary ones, and all four of them were happy like that. Jungo did not know what to speak, Cookie was too lazy to speak anything at all, and both Chef Hiroki and his daemon, the large dove by the door, seemed to work better in silence. But even with few words, Jungo learned enough — he learned so much more than he ever expected or hoped for.

When he finally reached an age where he was old enough to get a job, he was quickly accepted into the restaurant of Chef Hiroki. By that time, Cookie had finally settled — and it was no wonder it had become the very same cat it always preferred, black fur and white paws —, and Jungo was the proud owner of a whole new thing: a _knife_. The knife was Chef Hiroki’s gift, of course, or he would have never been able to afford it.

Jungo worked under Chef Hiroki (“Boss”) for years, and when he had to leave the orphanage, there was a room separated for him at the back of the restaurant. Jungo and Cookie were still silent, slow and lazy, but now they had a _purpose_. Jungo would not speak, but he would cut and cook; Cookie would barely speak or be awake, but he would protect his soul, guide him whenever they were lost, and eat whatever he was offered.

And who cared if they were dumb? They were partners, they were friends, and they had a place to call theirs. From an offered bed, shared food and people they never talked to, they had come a long way. And there was still a long way to go before them.


	11. Yanagiya Otome - Hariti

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops, sorry. My Persona 5 arrived, and I spent the last four days playing non-stop. Because of that, the next chapter is coming today as well, and I will post another tomorrow, and the last (or second to last, if I manage to write Joe's chapter till then) will be coming out on Friday.

**Yanagiya Otome — Hariti**

Otome was never said to be especially gentle or nice — actually, she was ultimately called a tease since she was a child, and Hariti had always been her partner in crime. Together, the both of them could piss _anyone_ off, and they simply took too much pleasure in it to stop.

Even so, when given the choice, Otome decided to become a doctor.

It was not born from her teasing nature or even her studies; this decision was actually born from the gentleness that people rarely talked about, from the love she felt for her family. She decided to become a doctor when she was twelve and, Hari a rabbit by her side, her father passed away from illness. She decided to become a doctor when, Hari curled on her shoulders as a serpent, her mother fell sick and had to start on several medications.

Otome was decided, dedicated — after making her choice, she sat in front of her books and studied harder than ever before; Hari, her partner in crime, became her partner of studies, and helped her study harder to each of her tests. Hari would cheer her up when she felt down, would guide her to coffee when she was half-asleep, and would lay by her side when she needed company. Hari was everything she needed, without ever giving up on who she was; she helped Otome, and never stopped calling people “boy” or “girl”, never stopped calling her classmates “silly”, never stopped giving nicknames to everyone she met. Hari would support Otome on the whole way, but she would still perch on her head and grin widely, leering at cute boys and making small comments on how they were such nice clothes.

Hari was Otome’s balance.

At that time, when they were still unsettled and studying hard to become what they wished for, Hari was mostly a rabbit or a bird, and people would laugh at the delicacy it showed. No one believed Otome was a delicate girl, no one thought of her as innocent or naïve, and they all would tease her about how Hari would end up settling as a toad or something so she could “experiment on it”, (Otome frowned fiercely at it and Hari yelled all kinds of things back at them. When they were alone at home, however, she wept, and Hari turned into a cat in her lap, purring her worries away. _No one_ should experiment on daemons. No one).

When they got to their last year, studies well ahead of them, Hari finally settled. They raised their heads, rolled their eyes, and hid their grins. _“A toad or something”_ , they said. Otome strolled inside their classroom quite proudly that day, Hari following her with her tail up in the sky. No one ever teased her again.

Hari made a great cat, and Otome made sure to study everything there was to know about house cats after Hari settled as one. She was so happy to learn that a cat’s purr was capable of hastening the healing of bones and to learn that cats had a positive emotional response that allowed for a better recuperation. She was so happy and _proud_ ; this was their own blessing of fate. Otome _would_ become a doctor, and Hari was saying the same.

Her growth was quick. She finished high school, entered a good medical school, and became a doctor in no time. She was a quick learner; she did not need too much help, and having a docile daemon helped with the patients. Even her teasing helped with patients — everyone seemed more relaxed around her than around some of the other students that were all serious all the time. Otome felt comfortable. She felt glad. She was gentle, of course, but she was gentle on her own way, and as Hari once showed her, the best way of helping people was by being herself. So they were themselves. And made everyone proud of them just like that.

When she was 23, however, her world crashed around her. Her mother was weak from her meds — and she could do nothing about it —, and she was resigned to it by now. What she wasn’t ready for was for her aunt and uncle to die. Up and about just… _die_. A car crash, she thought distantly. Hari purred on her lap, for once silent.

Koharu was a cute, small, pretty girl. She was so fragile, so delicate, so docile. She had such big eyes, such an innocent face… Otome just didn’t know what to make of her. Her teasing seemed out of place, her leering gaze would be wasted on someone so young, and she suddenly found herself as a _mother_. She was so lost, so directionless; she just stood there and stared.

For minutes, all she could do was stare. Big eyes, innocent face, so much fear. Her daemon, a small thing still, kept changing by her side. Puppy, the cub of a bear, the cub of a wolf, a little fledgling of a bird, a small butterfly, a hairless rabbit…

And suddenly Otome was on her knees, arms wrapping around this girl who had been thrusted into her life — _trusted_ to her —, trembling with this small body under her own. By their side, Hari leaned forward, curled around a changing kitty, and purred softly. They were both broken, they were both tearing up inside and outside, but they were doing such things _together_.

And right then, Otome did not care that she was lost. All she cared about was that there was something else lost, and she could _help_. Help this girl who had a daemon that changed into a rabbit, just like Hari used to, that trembled and cried silently, just like _she_ used to. All she cared about was that there was someone here, right now, that could use her help, and she would _not_ turn her back to this girl. Never again.

Because, in the end, _this_ , right here, was the real reason why, at twelve, she decided to become a doctor. Because that gentle part of her that her ex-classmates used to doubt existed had said, “No one should hurt like you’re hurting now”. Because the kind part that existed on her Hari had curled on her lap and whispered, “It’s okay, I’m here for you”. And now — now she was here for Koharu.


	12. Kanno Fumi - Trumpeter

**Kanno Fumi — Trumpeter**

No one disagreed that Fumi wasn’t the most… normal of persons. Actually, amongst other names, Fumi _had_ been called, once or thrice (or, like, a _million_ times) a “mad scientist”. And she could have not even blinked an eye at it. You know. There was a reason why Trumpeter, despite being her daemon, was afraid of her.

Because that’s how it worked between them; Fumi frowned at computers, glared at people, grumbled under her voice to herself… and Trumpeter flew high, looked away, and squeaked with fear every time Fumi seemed to be searching for a lab rat.

For a while, Fumi had lived in foster care, and had hidden herself behind books with Trumpeter perched on her shoulder. She had never been any good with socialization, and just _looking_ at those children would make her so exhausted she gave up before she was forced to say more than a “good morning” to any of them. This way, her escape was made by studying very hard, getting her hands on any subject she could find, her brain always more active than that of any of the other children’s.

When she finally got a home, a family, she was already too deep into her habits to give them up. She only met them _because_ of her studies, to start with, so it wasn’t like it would help anyone if she just started to have fun all the time. Even so, in America, Fumi managed to spend less time behind books and computers, and more time sitting in a family table, eating actual food. That was the time Trumpeter was the least scared of her.

After graduating, however, and finally settling down — not that it took long, because Trumpeter was rarely something _other_ than an owl by the time she was thirteen, and even then he would only change because she wanted a subject to study —, Fumi returned to Japan.

And started her lifework.

Her research was a lot broader now; she could finally look into daemons, search the reason why almost no one else had daemons of opposite sex than that of their humans, study how a daemon and a human were connected. She finally got down to business, grabbed Trumpeter by the back of his wings (carefully; despite being a “mad scientist”, despite studying daemons from time to time, she would never hurt one of them intentionally, not even her own daemon. Even if not “especially” her own daemon.), and set out to find herself a new “home”.

With less than a year, she was found by some hidden organization she never heard about. It was the most exciting thing she imagined could happen.

JP’s, as they called themselves, were actually _interested_ in her studies. Grinning down at Trumpeter, she asked his opinion — because, despite his fear, Trumpeter had to actually agree with her choices, or she would stop dead before doing them —, and only accepted after the sighed “yes” she got from her owl.

In a month time, she met a doctor who teased the hell out of her, and she finally decided this, this new job of hers, was, maybe, her new… home.

Home. “Home”, that once meant a warm, big family of foster children studying abroad. “Home”, that now was looking out to be a cold, empty place with lots of computers, freedom to search _whatever_ she wanted, and a friendly smile accompanying an _horrible_ drink and some out of context teasing. She still couldn’t explain how it jumped from one thing to another, but she knew that, despite all the differences, in the end, it was almost the same thing. The same feeling, the same working. Because this was somewhere Trumpeter would ruffle his feathers, complain loudly that he was _not_ a lab-rat, _thank you very much_ , and then sit down to chat with Hari, who would creep into the room with her tail held high a couple of beats before Otome came in laughing loudly, and Trumpeter was never someone to make friends. Because Trumpeter wouldn’t be as scared of Fumi anymore, even nuzzling into her while she worked or giving her hints of things she had missed. Because Trumpeter sat on her shoulder and slept, and there was not a drop of worry in his body.

Because Fumi had learned, years ago, that daemons and humans did not feel the same feelings all the time, but if one of them was scared, the other would feel the taint of it on their mind — and if Trumpeter was this relaxed, then she was as well. And Fumi knew herself well enough, after years of hiding behind books, to realize that she was only ever relaxed in one single condition.

So, she did not care if Otome was loud, obnoxious, had _terrible_ taste in drinks, or what. Did not even care that she thought she could _mother_ Fumi, sending her food or ordering her to bed. Because, as annoying as the doctor could be, Fumi was already aware that that stupid girl was her family.

And Fumi would always protect family.


	13. Kuriki Ronaldo - Inti

**Kuriki Ronaldo — Inti**

As a boy, Ronaldo had always admired officers of law. Inti, at his side, would share his respect and excitement, changing into different forms of dogs, running laps and barking his laughter.

Ronaldo had been a half-blood — half-Japanese and half-Brazilian —, and was acutely aware since young of the difficulties there were of being half-foreign. Not as much discrimination as being a complete foreign, he noticed from his mother, but because of his name, he would always be looked weird, and he knew that. Because of that, he had been easily swayed to respect the police after the one time in his childhood where one of them helped his mother and never treated either of them differently from what someone would treat a Japanese citizen.

At ten, then, it was no surprise to anyone when he approached his mother with a careful frown, and asked, very cautiously. “Mother, if I wanted to be from the police, would you mind?”

The hug he received was enough to make Inti change into a puppy of a dog to burrow himself into his mother’s bulldog, yipping contentedly.

Neither Inti nor Ronaldo were especially talkative, but neither were they quiet. At twelve, trying to understand how police officers worked, they would approach officers on the street and ask them questions one in a time. Ronaldo would smile to make himself seem more approachable, and Inti would become a medium-sized dog, because that’s what most officers had as their own daemons, and they would voice any kind of questions they had. It worked almost every time.

One day, however, at fourteen, when he was finally certain he _would_ become a police officer, he was the one approached by one of the police officers. “Hey, kiddo,” he had said, a German Shepherd trailing after him with alert ears, “Have you seen this kid? I’ve seen you on these streets many times, so…”

Ronaldo had been surprised. Astonished. Excited. His heart threatened to thrum out of his chest, and his mouth was so dry he could not speak his mind. Inti, however, had no such problems, and quickly sat at his feet, staring curiously at the photo offered. “Yeah, I’ve seen him once. Is he in trouble?”

The adult seemed to need a moment himself before answering, possibly caught by surprise with Inti’s straightforwardness. Ronaldo had realized, during his years of following officers around, that most daemons just kept to themselves unless they were required to talk to _other daemons_ , but never to a human directly. Ronaldo did not understand that. It seemed natural; weren’t they two parts of the same soul? Then, they should be equals.

“No,” the officer answered at last, smiling with what seemed like relief. “He’s actually a missing person, but I was of the thought he had escaped wherever they were keeping him. Seems like I was right. Thank you, kid. If you could just tell me when and where…?”

Ronaldo shrugged, but looked down at Inti in askance. Yeah, sure, he must have seen the kid as well, but, really, Inti was a lot better at remembering people. So, “By the subway station. I think we saw him… three days ago. His parrot had been screaming quite loudly, it was annoying a lot of people. Maybe you could ask someone who work there?”

The officer nodded his thanks and left, Shepherd following silently behind him.

Ronaldo rubbed Inti’s ears affectionately. He would possibly never understand people who silenced their daemons in a conversation, but this guy seemed nice enough. He hoped he could help other kids as well when he got into the force.

With that thought in mind, a smile on his face, and Inti following him, Ronaldo left the park silently.

Years later, when the half-Brazilian recruit entered the Academy with a Rottweiler on his heels, everyone got astonished by the way daemon and human seemed to ignore any hidden rule of the office. Everyone except by one officer leading a German Shepherd, who would one day in the future, adopt this kid as his trainee and, even longer in the future, go missing after hearing about things best left unknown.


	14. Nitta Io - Titania

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For reasons, I now have two new chapters to upload. One for Joe (finally) and one for dear lunatic Polaris. They'll be coming this weekend, 'cuz so.

**Nitta Io — Titania**

A small, smart, anxious animal. How fitting. She was surprised it wasn’t a ferret, in the end. Titania certainly had leaned on that direction, for a while. Either way, Io did not care all that much; an opossum, despite being called stinky by some, wasn’t really all that threatening, either, so it suited her well enough.

She betted that’s another thing taken into account when someone’s daemon was settling — if the human was threatening or not. Or, at least, if they had potential to be a threat or not. She sometimes wondered at which concepts were important enough to be considered and which were discarded, but realized it was too out of her reach to disturb herself with it.

And that, she supposed, was the whole problem. Since young, she would inquire herself about things — would think too much, would have this burning curiosity, would try to research something with Titania… just to give up, when she realized how hard it would be. When she realized it was harder than a normal student could expect to find out on her own. She would never feel satisfied because of that, always longing for an answer she had washed her hands of looking into. A pushover, she was.

She hated that about herself, sometimes. When the burn was so strong she would stay awake at night, staring at the ceiling with Titania curled by her head, she would just think about how she wished she were brave to continue searching for her answers. About how she wanted to have enough self-imposition to stand up to those people who said to her, “you’re not enough, it’s too hard” and answer with: “But I’ll look into it anyway, because I want to!”

She never did. Instead, Titania would sigh, climb onto her shoulders, and nuzzle her neck. She would whisper, unheard to strangers, “get a grip on yourself, Io”, and Io would burn with shame — even her _daemon_ thought she needed to change.

When she was approached by an arguing group, she always kept quiet. Silent and subdued. She could even disagree with them — but she never let them know, too shy to say anything at all. Titania knew about it, and knew how much Io hurt herself when she stopped herself from doing what she wanted. From time to time, because of it, Titania tried to convince Io to go on with her plans, to speak up when she had something in mind, but she was rarely successful. Titania, herself, never spoke up, either, silenced by Io’s fear of people’s reactions.

Sometimes she wondered if she was doing the best thing.

Even so, the duo continued like that, from childhood to young adults. From the time where Titania was still able to change her form at will, a quiet mouse in a pocket, a peaceful swallow nestling on Io’s hair, an otter running by her side — to the time where they grew up, the time where their changes restricted themselves to mostly a ferret and, at an end, to the ultimate form of the opossum. The silent, shy girl, and the quiet, smart, but subdued daemon who followed unvoiced wishes.

And, in Titania’s head, she kept thinking about ways of talking without speaking — tired of thinking songs never shared. Tired of being afraid to disturb the silence. Tired of fearing rejection. And Titania kept thinking about it, even while Io kept shutting herself down in silence — because no good daemon, no good person, or no good soul at all, would ever sit back and watch as someone they loved hurt themselves beyond care.

And Titania swore to stop Io before she was beyond any care.

 

 


	15. Akie Yuzuru - Kama

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shortest chapter, and not really good - but, well, I don't know Joe that well, either, so this was actually better than I expected.

**Akie Yuzuru — Kama**

Yuzuru found, still a child, that he hated to be called by his given name. There was no real, conclusive reason; he just hated it. “Yuzuru”, such a boring, normal, unassuming name. He wanted something bigger, something flashier, something — like an anime character.

Kama, who would always complain about him, but follow him anyway, had sighed, looked at some of his mangás and said, “So I’m calling you Joe.”

It stuck.

Whenever asked to introduce himself, Yuzuru would grin and say, “I’m Joe.” After a few months, people stopped questioning him about it, and simply accepted it. His father was the only one who still called him Yuzuru, after entering middle school. Joe decided he didn’t care all that much, because his father was usually quiet, and was most likely to simply call him “son”.

Kama, by his side, also introduced his human, however annoying he could be, by Joe. Even if he did that with a sigh and a roll of his eyes. Other daemons also learned not to question soon enough.

By high school, Joe was known as Joe to everyone (even his teachers, much to his glee), and Kama was known as “the sloth slung over his arms”. Despite no one questioning his name, people still questioned his daemon — how could someone so cheerful have a _sloth_ as his daemon? Joe would simply laugh, and Kama would raise his head and roll his eyes again, but neither of them ever told anyone that they weren’t actually _fixed_ yet.

Everyone discovered anyway, because Joe fell in love with the smartest, prettiest and most popular girl on their class and, for some miracle or another, lucked a date with her, where Kama finally jumped down and changed into a Golden Retriever.

He never turned back.

They were soon referred as “the annoying couple”, and Kama would lounge by Yume — a small cat with the fluffiest fur he had ever felt —, and they would roll their eyes and gossip, because their humans were _ridiculous_ , and they just wanted to leave the room, sometimes, especially when Joe was _singing_ , or Mari was _baking_. (Did neither of them realize those were dangerous things?)

They still were called the “odd daemons”, but — who cared? In the end, in that small family of four, they were comfortably happy, and Kama could still be a slot, despite being a dog, and Yume never, ever complained about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is Polaris. She's going to be the last one, as well.


	16. Polaris

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now would be the time to tell you I never finished reading His Dark Materials. Because of that, I don't know if someone created the Knife or if it simply existed, or what, so I took... liberty to do whatever I liked. Which was: some people have the ability to both see into other universes _and_ travel to them, with enough will. Likewise, every mentioned universed seemed to have humans as the dominant race and everything, but I decided that - well, why the hell not? So, animals and strange beings. And difference in size, because, yeah, so what?  
>  You're warned.
> 
> So, this is the last chapter, and a lot more plot-oriented. We are talking about Polaris, so... you know. Crazy woman ahead. You're warned.

**Polaris**

Everywhere, Polaris would always be the odd one. She discovered that soon enough, on her mother universe, when one day she spoke of seeing other worlds — other people, other _beings_ — and her family stared at her as if she were insane. She wasn’t insane. At least, not back then.

Polaris discovered, a few years after that, that not only did she have the ability to _see_ beyond — she had the ability to _pass_. With something as simple as a wave of her hand, she could open a portal only for her. A portal that led to those worlds full of smiling people, full of beings so different from her, full of… _excitement_.

She decided, then, that if she did not belong where she was, she would just have to find somewhere she did.

Something that started so innocent, with such a childish resolve and hopeful determination — and that would end in a bloodbath.

The second world she ever met, people weren’t people. At least, not to her eyes. They were huge, strange, odder than her. They had blank eyes and spoke to themselves, and Polaris was _scared_ of them. She didn’t like this world. She didn’t like these people who muttered of prophecies, of destruction, of the end. She wanted an out.

And an out she had.

Trembling in fear and all the righteousness of a teenager, Polaris opened another portal. This one ended in a world filled with speaking animals, and she didn’t know why they were so _smart_. Animals were _animals_ , after all. Couldn’t they see they were beneath her? They were so strange. So ridiculous.

She left that world frowning and snickering. Such a stupid world… She never thought there were worlds that were so stupid. Who dared give _animals_ intelligence? In the end, really, they were simply _animals_.

(She never admitted that she kind of preferred the animals to those strange human-like beings from her previous world.)

The third world — the third world was a hit.

She had felt so relieved. These were _humans_. Humans like her. With hair, skin, bodies that moved. They had voice and they saw normal things. They did not speak to the skies, they did not curse her, they did not…

But they did. They stared at her, they frowned, they mumbled to themselves. They pointed at her when she walked by, and small children cowered in fear when she was close.

And they, all of them, had animals with them.

“Daemons”, they said. “Our souls. Don’t you have a soul?”

She did not. She didn’t have any _daemon_ , or whatever. ( _Demons_ , she preferred to sneer at them. _“Why do I need a demon to corrupt me?”_ she taunted one of the children who laughed at her. She was the one left laughing, when the girl left crying.)

When the next world proved to be almost the same, she decided to give up. Why bother with somewhere you belong, when you could _create_ a place just for yourself? She was beyond everyone. She was _above_ everyone. She had the Sight, she had the ability to Cross, and she was smarter than any being in any world. She didn’t need to _belong_. She could have _a world_.

Her first subject was the world filled with smaller human-like beings that were followed by daemons (the name didn’t seem to change all that much. Somewhere, they were consciousness. On another world, they were souls. On all of them, there were studies that called them daemons, demons, angels, or spirits. She still preferred to call them demons) that were always changing forms.

These humans were so small, so weak. They looked at her, big, tall, so _different_ — and they saw a God. They murmured to themselves, they whispered to each other, they stared at her with fear and awe, and she took it all in. All of it. And she smirked and decided that _these were the ones_.

It started small. “I come from above, where our souls are hidden inside. There is no need to have a daemon, because we are _complete_ ,” she said to all of them, and they whispered to themselves in return, “ _are we incomplete?”_

She continued filling them with lies, and all the wishes she had. She asked for a house, and they built it. She asked for a castle, they built gave her one. She asked for gold, for food, and they brought her. She gave them, in return, “wisdom” of above. She spoke of fallen demons, broken without souls, talking without making sense. She spoke of those whose daemons were still, because they were stuck in time, never to grow, never to love, never to feel any emotions. She spoke of a family that turned their backs to her, and how they were forever cursed to be Blind, to never See the truth.

They adored her. They feared her. They believed her.

Polaris wasn’t a good person. The small child who cowered in fear and wished to have a family was beyond angry, by this time. She was gone. She had no desire to mingle with stupid people. She was better than all of them. She might not be _God_ , but one _did_ choose her, because she never, in all of her travels, found _one_ other person that had the Sight, never mind the ability to Cross. And if she was a Chosen One, then she might as well put it to good use, right?

And in this world, high on her castle, thinking of strategies, she started to pick promising humans. She chose those who were smarter, those who were stronger. She chose those who were best close to her, because she had heard, once, “Keep your friends close, and your enemies even closer.”

Amongst these numbers, her favorite was Al Saiduq, a small creature of eternal curiosity, who always looked up at her with the most beautiful eyes — never _too_ fearful, with a good dose of admiration, and always, _always_ wary.

And keeping these people close, watching them all, she knew the exact moment when her favorite betrayed her.

But, if he thought she didn’t know — very well. She was starting to feel bored here, in a place where everyone obeyed her. She could enjoy a game for a while… as long as it ended with Al Saiduq’s blood on her hands for thinking he was smarter than her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is it. Finished. Hope you've enjoyed it.  
> I'm trying to make sense of the story itself, and if I ever do, well, I'll bring it. As it is, it's nothing really productive, and a lot of it can be summarized to "Hey, Hibiki-Yamato interactions!". Really. All of it, I think, actually. Ehhh... I should at least add some more plot, I guess... well.

**Author's Note:**

> As the story is already complete (and edited. For now.), I will update it once or twice a week. Most likely every Friday, seeing how my classes are back for now.
> 
> If you could comment, point out anything you liked or don't agree with - or even something you don't understand -, please do. I would be honoured and will most certainly respond to it.


End file.
